


you are young, darling (for now, but not for long)

by spookyspicedchai



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Coming of Age, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, maladjusted characters in a vague suburban setting, not as dark as it sounds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28607241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyspicedchai/pseuds/spookyspicedchai
Summary: "By now, Baekhyun could’ve been my childhood sweetheart of sorts. The boy of my dreams. The one built up on illusions and juvenile romanticism, pretty projections starring in my every wet dream. But he’s not. He’s mine, and now, we have so much more to lose. I can’t forfeit his sacrifice for some stupid show of aggression and possession. I could ruin this for us. Every time I see him with a new mark, it provokes something unhinged and violent in my bones. I shudder against the chill that creeps down my spine, my fists white-knuckle-ready, craving the atonement I could so forcibly pull from anyone who thinks they can hurt him. But then, he’s there, whispering against my ear; his sweet voice filling my head with lofty dreams about how this is only for now, and that we have forever.The world was ours to claim, and the something more that lay beyond this stale suburb was calling out to us.I would get him somewhere far away from here."OrChanbaek are best friends who skateboard. Baekhyun is elusive and ethereal and Chanyeol wants to keep him forever.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 13
Kudos: 7





	you are young, darling (for now, but not for long)

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this several years ago when I was heavily suicidal and my relationship with my parents was enormously dysfunctional and unhealthy. I'm feeling super depressed and lonely tonight, so I thought- why not pull this one out of the vault and use it as bait to politely scream into the void? Maybe this one will make contact. I know I'll regret it in the morning or in a week, but, for now, it's yours.
> 
> Thank you for reading.

_Youth is wasted on the young…_

My mom likes to complain that us kids turned into teenagers early for our age.

Well, pretty much as soon as I hit those double digits, I was miserable. Suddenly, people changed. Friends upgraded. I found myself hovering outside of our small circle as we made stilted conversation and stood in protective clumps waiting for the first bell to ring. My off-brand sneakers stuttered against coarse concrete, trying to hold my place even as shoulders inched closer, closing me out.

After a while, it was obvious that I hadn’t made the cut. I mean, I was literally given the cold shoulder. I was too tall - my growth spurt hitting me several years before my classmates. I took up too much space with my gangly limbs and quickly growing pubescent body. My nose was too large for my face, my folded ears stuck out in a funny way, my parents couldn’t afford to buy me the same athletic wear the popular kids wore every day, and this all translated to: _uncool_.

I know my older sister was devastated when her best friend - who was a year older than her - turned twelve, and stopped hanging out with her, stopped playing childish games, and started caring about which clothes she wore. Overnight, she started hanging out with a _teenager_. It was the ultimate betrayal for my then eleven-year-old sister who was still firmly planted in childhood, while simultaneously staggering towards awkward adolescence.

The two would skulk around dripping in all black and severely middle-parted limp hair that hung pin straight past their trim waists, chunky platform shoes weighing down their steps and adding an assumed _gravitas_ to their newly acquired “maturity.” Suddenly, running through the woods and pretending the floor was lava was too babyish.

_I guess she didn’t want to be jaguar anymore._

I don’t think she ever fully recovered from that blow. In her innocence, she felt profound abandonment: the wound manifesting itself into twisted, gnarled misconceptions about elusive love and unavoidable rejection. I don’t know if she let anyone get that close to her since, to gain her unwitting trust only to leave her.

I was so young, but I think this is when Yoora became sad.

\--

I woke up to sunshine pouring in through my flimsy plastic blinds. It gave everything a soft, blurred-around-the-edges type of glow. I would even go so far as to call it ethereal if it wasn't the reason I was abruptly awake. I couldn’t go back to sleep now. I would feel too damn guilty with the sun already high in the sky and my blinds apparently not enough to shield me from the inevitable start of a new day. The body next to me was wrapped up in my downy, white comforter. _Blanket hog._

Crouching down next to him, I propped myself up on my elbows and started grooming his eyebrows delicately with the tip of my finger.

“Mm, Chanyeol. C’mere. Cuddle with me,” he mumbled, reaching out for me with grabby hands and pulling me down on top of him. I was careful to cushion the fall by placing my forearms above his head, barely missing his ashy-blond-almost-silver bedhead.

“No, I’m bored. Let’s go out.” I pushed myself up on my arms and looked down at him. His skin was always fresh and smooth in the morning before he would wash his face, all dewy and extra plump. Milky skin was offset by a fat stripe of peachy, three-day-old-sunburn across his button nose and full cheeks. His pink lips looked puffy with how swollen they were; it reminded me of sleeping babies and silky rose petals.

While I was distracted staring at him, his arm shot out and sucker punched me right in the gut, and I collapsed on top of him.

“ _Cuddle_ ,” he insisted, wrapping his arms and legs around me, making escape a struggle. I, of course, could have fought my way out of his clingy clutches if I had wanted to - I mean, I have a good six inches and twenty pounds on him - but I know he's not a morning person, so I give into his demands for a short while, huffing into the dark curve of his neck and releasing the tension in my body as he accepts my weight without trouble.

“C’mon, man. I think it’s already like two or something,” I urged him. “Let’s get up before my mom finds out we’ve been in bed all morning.”

_Nothing. Not even to crack a dirty joke that I so graciously served to him on a silver platter._

“You might want to get a change of clothes from your house, too. Unless you want to go out half naked.” _Still nothing._ “I mean, I’d lend you some of mine, but I don’t think your girly body could fill out my pants.”

A sharp flick to my forehead. “Seriously, Baekhyun! We wanna get outta here before my parents come home. Ever since Yoora, they’re not letting me out of their sight. I’m not even allowed to lock my door anymore; so, sorry, no hanky panky during our sleepovers.”

His lips twitched at that last comment, but his eyes remained closed. I placed my hand over his mouth. “ _Get_. _Up_. It’s 2:36.”

Baekhyun bolted up into a sitting position, puppy dog eyes wide as saucers, bringing me with him. _Okay, so he is kinda strong._

“ _What_?!” He frantically scrambled off the bed, falling to his knees because his legs were still all twisted in the sheets. “Holy shit! My dad’s gonna be home soon!” he shouted, as he crawled around on the floor, grabbing his jeans and grasping for his other sneaker that had somehow found its way under my bed.

In thirty seconds, he was pulling on his oversized t-shirt and grabbing my hand, pulling me towards the door as he flew down the stairs. I think he only bothered to actually use the first step before he launched down the other six to the landing.

Neither of us had a car, so he was sprinting the one and a half miles it took to get from my house to his. I meandered down the empty driveway after him.

Twenty-two minutes later and I was standing in front of Baekhyun's house, leaning on the garage door and squinting against the aggressive summer sun. It was hot outside, and I was starting to sweat, but I didn’t bother following him inside. I had been waiting about five minutes when I saw his dad’s car turn onto their street. The pale yellow Ford Fairmont slowed to a crawl once its driver noticed me standing there, pulling into the driveway until its chrome bumper stopped less than a foot away from my denim-clad legs. The man eyed me as he got out of the car.

“Hey, Mr. Byun,” I called, giving an easy smile and taking my hand out of my pocket to wave, my sneaker sliding down from the white garage door behind me to stand up straight.

“Chanyeol,” he said slowly, pronouncing every syllable.

Just then, Baekhyun swung open the front door, a dark green duffel bag stuffed like a sausage hung over his shoulder. He stopped short when he saw his dad, and I glanced back and forth between them, trying to gauge just how much shit he was in. It was like all the oxygen in the air was suddenly vacuumed up into the stratosphere, instantly chilling and crackling dangerously like a charging storm cloud ready to strike; and though, I was merely there as collateral damage, if anything, blood rushed past my ears making the pressure pound against my constricting chest. His dad seemed to forget I was there as he walked over to Baekhyun, irritation rolling off the tense set of his shoulders as he gripped Baekhyun's arm tightly while hissing into his ear before disappearing through the open front door into the dark house.

Baekhyun stood rooted to the spot for a moment before moving. He came over to me with his bag, plopped it down at my feet, and told me in a breathy voice, “Uh, take this. Wait here.”

I knew it was going to be bad. I wish I would have woken up sooner this afternoon. I wish we hadn’t stayed up till six a.m. the night before. _If only we had gotten here ten minutes earlier._

A while passed before Baekhyun came back out. He was looking down at the ground, and his hair was in his face, but I could still see the fresh bruise on his cheekbone and the nasty cut splitting his bottom lip. He didn’t say anything when he got to me. He just picked up his duffel bag and started off down the street. _I guess back to my house then._

The only sound heard was the scraping of our sneakers as we shuffled along the street. We didn’t talk. I knew he wouldn’t want to. When we were almost to my house, I turned to him and asked, “Hey, um… wanna go somewhere? We could go… catch a movie, or, um, hang out by the tennis courts. I hear the skate park’s almost finished. We could go check it out!”

I didn’t want to tell him that if my parents saw his face like that I wouldn’t be allowed to hang out with him anymore. They already thought Baekhyun was trouble. They knew he was known around town for both his violent _and_ sexual proclivities – _but did it really count when the violence was being done_ to _him?_ He just looked at me flatly; and then, he turned around and headed towards my backyard, concealing his bag behind the large maple that stood off to the side, before standing in front of me again.

“Where to?”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments mean the world to me. You're more welcome to say hi. I would really love to hear from you.


End file.
